Semper Sursum
by Tsuki Hikaru
Summary: AU. Harry won't regret leaving Hogwarts. That was a fact. Leaving Hogwarts and attending Veles School of all Things Magick will probably be one of the best non-decisions he had ever made, especially if it helps him kick Voldemort's ass to the afterlife and give Dumbledore a big fuck you. Now if only trouble will stop finding him... (No character bashing)
1. Prologue

**This fic was inspired by Miranda Flairgold' A Second Chance At Life Trilogy, Toki Mirage's Bloody Skies, and Amira Devant's Leaving it All Behind are some of my favourite fanfics on . Some of the types of magics belong solely to Miranda Flairgold as well as the attributes of some of the magical creatures. If you have yet to read their fics, I suggest that you do, even if you don't like mine.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the Inheritance Cycle, or the Lord of the Rings. They belong to J. K. Rowling, Christopher Paolini, and J. R. R. Tolkien respectively.**

**Semper Sursum**

Prologue

They were chasing him again. One would think that Dudley would have given up by now, seeing how much he hates physical exercise and how fat he is, but no, they have already chased him for half an hour and don't seem to be giving up any time soon. In addition, his usual sanctuary wasn't available anymore, because his cousin had complained to aunt Petunia and after a few bribes to the librarian, the old hag had banned him from the library. Now even the comforts of the books are lost to him.

He rounded another corner, accidentally bumping into the owner of the grocery store, who proceeded to curse at him, ignoring the fact that he was obviously being chased by Dudley and his gang**_._**_ If you have time to curse at me then help me! _Harry mentally shouted, _What are you just standing there for?_ But from personal experience, Harry knew that no one on the street will lift a single finger to help him and just turn a blind eye. The 8 year-old continued to run even faster.

He turned another corner and froze; it was a dead end. He spun his head side to side wildly, desperate for a hiding place, but the alley was bare except for a large metal garbage can made out of tin and he didn't have any time to run back out and still have a chance to evade Dudley. He considered hiding inside or behind the garbage can for a split second, but immediately dismissed that thought, remembering how he ended up on the roof last time he tried that.

It was then that he spotted the door, the door that was slightly open and oh so obvious now that he had seen it and mentally banged his head on a figurative wall for not having noticed it before. If he remembered correctly, right outside the alley to the right was a bookstore he frequently passed with aunt Petunia on the way to the grocery store but had never entered, so he didn't know how the owner would react if he or she saw him…

Harry didn't get more time to think, as at that moment, several pairs of footsteps could be heard approaching and he sent a mental prayer to anyone who can hear him that the owner either wasn't there, or wouldn't mind a scrawny boy with dark hair, green eyes, glasses, and knobby knees intruding before opening the door wider, silently slipping inside, and closing it behind him.

He put his right ear against the door and waited, a second later, sneakers could be heard screeching as several overweight boys abruptly rounded the corner and slowed to a stop as they entered the alley. "Where is he?" Harry heard Dudley ask. It was followed by the sound of someone, probably Piers, kicking the garbage can and the subsequent falling of said can as well as the sound of the lid clattering to the floor. There was a few moment of silence, before Dudley broke it by cursing and ordered his friends to go search for him.

Harry waited until the last pair of footsteps to fade and then waited a few more minutes just to be safe, before letting out a relieved breath and relaxing his tensed muscles. Just as he prepared to re-open the door and leave the establishment, he was stopped by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Harry spun around and much to his embarrassment, let out a most unmanly squeak when he met luminous red eyes.

* * *

Everyone in Little Whinging, Surrey knew not to approach Olde Books, the book store on Main Street. It was said to be Bad, with a capital B. The store has been there for as long as anyone could remember, though one barmy old man swore that it just appeared out of the thin air one spring day. The old man was ignored by everyone, because he must have been mad, since it impossible, no matter how weird something was, for it to simply just appear like magic. He was then quickly forgotten, remembered only by his son and grandson, when one morning he was discovered dead of a heart attack.

People denied the fact that it appeared out of the thin air, but everyone agreed that there was something... odd about the place, especially since no one has ever seen the shopkeeper. And so rumors were created and some of them were so outrageous that even the residents of Little Whinging thought it impossible, but the rumors did it's job in keeping people away from the shop. Parents told their children, who in turn told _their _children to stay away from the book store.

Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, for one Harry James Potter, his mother was dead and he was unloved by his aunt, being therefore ignorant of the rumors, which was why he was sitting in said bookstore, drinking some positively foul tasting tea in pretence of being polite.

* * *

Harry discretely peered up at the man sitting at the counter penning a letter, unsure on how to break the silence. The man, who looked like he was in his early twenties, had short dark red hair with almond-shaped crimson eyes and _really_ pale skin, like one of those vampires Dudley always talked about. His eyes didn't glow as much now that they were in a proper lighting, but it was still slightly brighter than what was normal. He had a strong jaw line and fairly muscled. He was also pretty tall, more or less 6 foot and what aunt Petunia would call 'handsome', not that he really knew what it meant. All in all, he wasn't what you would typically expect from the owner of a bookstore.

The man was nice enough to offer him a glass of tea - one which he regrets to have accepted - and said he could stay for as long as he wanted to, but why? Adults were never nice to him. Aunt Petunia said that it was because he was an ungrateful freak, but he didn't believe her, if anything, Dudley was the ungrateful one. He did try to act like Dudley once, since she seems to like his attitude so much, but quickly gave up after the beating uncle Vernon gave him.

Harry sniffed the cup of tea in his hands once again and considered the pros and cons of drinking another mouthful. It would be rude not to and he might make the man angry, but if he did, he might die of food poisoning. He decided against it just as the man put down his pen and straightened up. Harry stared wide-eyed as the letter that was just written disappeared with a wave of the redhead's hand but snapped his attention back to the man when he began to speak, "My name is Cecil Dante and I am the owner of this store."

Harry made to introduce himself as well but was cut off.

"No," the man, Mr. Dante, said, "don't tell me yours. It'll be changed soon enough anyway."

Harry was baffled and blinked in shock, then he began to get angry. His name was the one thing that his parents, even if they _were_ good for nothing drunks, had left him. What right did this _man_, whom he had just met not a quarter of an hour ago have to take that away?

Harry glared at him and spoke, "I don't know what you think you are doing, Mr. Dante, but I refused to change my name on the whim of a complete stranger."

Mr. Dante carelessly waved his concerns away, "I'm not the one who's going to change your name, you are. Besides, I don't think it'll happen anytime before you're in your mid-teens at least, and in the meantime, I'll just call you Kid. And," he added absently, "Call me Cecil, none of that Mister stuff."

"How the hell is a couple of years soon." Harry muttered under his breath, though he had unwillingly begun to relax with the man's blasé attitude. He won't argue with the man on the name issue, hopefully, it'll just go away by itself if he ignored it enough - not that he plans to stay around long enough for it to away. Meanwhile...

"What did you do with the letter?" Harry questioned, curious. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that it was magic, but it had been pounded into him that such thing didn't exist.

Cecil flashed him a grin and Harry was distracted by the slightly longer that normal canines, wondering if the man might be a vampire, before pushing the thought to the back of his head. The red-head crossed his fingers underneath his chin and asked with a hint of mischief in his eyes, "What do you know about magic?"

"It doesn't exist." was the deadpan answer.

Cue sweat drops.

Exhale, "Looks like we have a long way to go, Kid."

* * *

"Here," his aunt Petunia blurted, shoving a letter under his nose and looking at him fearfully, "for you."

"What is it?" Harry asked calmly, not making any move to take the letter, choosing instead to stare at his aunt.

He honestly didn't know why she was so scared of him, true, he had learned about magic that fateful day three years ago, but it's not like he had used it to hurt them with it, even if he might not have used it as responsibly as he should have had since he gained a mediocre level of control over it. Not that he'll admit it to anyone other than Cecil, of course; he didn't want to go to Azka-whatsit if the wizards found out. But still, he made sure to stay out of their way, and even did chores when he had some free time, he didn't even threaten them when he stormed back to Number 4 Privet Drive after his first meeting with Cecil to demand answers.

Harry really should hate them and get his revenge, he really should, but he don't and didn't, and he doesn't know why. Cecil probably did, but he refused to tell him the last time he asked, just adopting an odd and slightly guilty look on his face. So since he already established the fact that he doesn't hate them, he even went out of the way to be nice, so what was the problem? Why were they so scared of him? (Unknown to him, Cecil did all of the above and much, much more...)

"It's from that freak school you parents went to." Petunia spat out, "Take it."

This time, Harry took the letter and the woman ran out of the room like the devil himself was on her trail, though that might not be far from the truth in her mind, Harry admitted to himself.

The glasses wearing boy glanced down at the letter in his hands clearly addressed to him in green ink:

**_Mr. H. Potter_**

**_The Smallest Bedroom_**

**_Little Whinging_**

**_Surrey_**

Harry pursed his lips and sighed. He rubbed his forehead, feeling a migraine coming. _Well,_ he thought, _no time better than the present. _He carefully opened the letter, taking out two pieces of parchment and unfolded it before beginning to read:

**_HOGWARTS_****_ SCHOOL_****_ of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_**

**_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_**

**_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) _**

**_Dear Mr. Potter,_**

**_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._**

**_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._**

**_Yours sincerely,_**

**_Minerva McGonagall,_**

**_Deputy Headmistress_**

**Harry switched to the second piece of parchment and it was indeed a list of school supplies.**

**_HOGWARTS_****_ SCHOOL_****_ of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_**

**_UNIFORM_**

**_First-year students will require:_**

**_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_**

**_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_**

**_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_**

**_4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_**

**_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_**

**_COURSE BOOKS_**

**_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_**

**_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)by Miranda Goshawk_**

**_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_**

**_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_**

**_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_**

**_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_**

**_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_**

**_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_**

**_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_**

**_OTHER EQUIPMENT_**

**_1 wand_**

**_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_**

**_1 set of glass or crystal phials_**

**_1 telescope set_**

**_1 brass scales_**

**_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_**

**_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_**

Harry sighed once again and re-folded the letter, returning them to the envelope, time to face the music. He got to his feet and walked out the bedroom door. At the end of the hallway, he descended the stairs and continued to the front door. once there, he paused to pull on his sneakers before exiting the house. Walking away from Privet Drive, he let his mind drift as his feet took him down the now familiar path to the Olde Books.

His schooling has been a subject of much debate these past few months leading up to his 11th birthday; Harry wanted to go to his parents' alma mater, Hogwarts, while Cecil wants him to go to a school in one of the neutral territories in the hidden other realm, also known as the Realm Eternal. The raven-haired boy glanced once again at the Hogwarts acceptance letter and cursed; if only the education at the BritishWizardingSchool wasn't so substandard compared to what he could be getting.

Education in the Realm Eternal was separated into three stages; a primary school for 5 years from age 11 to 15, a secondary school for another 5 years from age 16 to 20, and an apprenticeship following the secondary education.

Primary school and the apprenticeship was optional, as one didn't need to have a Mastery to get a job and clans often choose to train their youths themselves for their primary education, but secondary school is mandatory and everyone has to attend for at least 2 years. There are universities, but they are rare and often simply connected to the secondary schools.

While primary schools can be opened by anyone anywhere as long as it follow rules concerning it's teachings to ensure a student's safety, it's the opposite for a secondary school. There are three strict regulations governing the opening of a secondary school but none about the teaching. First, it has to be open to all species, second, it has to be on neutral territory, third, it has to be a boarding school. Anything else is allowed.

Cecil insisted for him to go to primary school, saying that his potential would be wasted at Hogwarts, and seeing the book list, Harry had to agree, but he still wanted to go to his parents' old school in order to feel closer to them, he'll just have to study extra hard when he had the time.

Arriving in front of the bookstore, with it's dusty almost opaque windows and rotting sign, Harry steeled his nerves before pushing open the doors and steeping inside, searching his surroundings for the red-head. The inside of the bookstore was surprisingly clean with not a single speck of dirt in sight, though stacks of books could be found littering the floor, the tallest one reaching over 7 feet tall. He found Cecil lounging behind one such stack of books, a thick, expensive looking book in hand, reading glasses perched on his nose. Harry never understood why the half-vampire used glasses to read when he had more than perfect vision like all vampires.

Cecil lazily looked up at him and blinked, "What are you doing here, otouto?" He asked, sitting up straight.

Harry plopped down beside him and looked at the cover, _Rise and Fall of the Magical Egyptian Empire_, "Japanese this time, huh? The book any good?" He asked, purposely ignoring the question.

"S'okay," Cecil responded, "The facts are mostly correct, but the content is a little dry. And don't try to distract me, what are you doing here?"

Harry looked at him innocently, "Can't I come to visit my favourite half-vampire?"

Cecil gave him an amused look, "I'm the _only_ half-vampire you know. What happened?" He questioned, "Weren't you going to London today?"

Harry shrugged, "I decided to postpone the trip due to some new information that just arrived this morning, see for yourself." The 11 year-old handed over the letter.

When Cecil had finished reading, his face was grim, "You're not actually thinking of going, are you?" he questioned, "You can get a much better education elsewhere."

"Well," Harry began, "Education is no the reason why I want to go there in the first place, so it doesn't matter all that much. I just want to be closer to my parents."

Cecil frowned and stared at him, Harry stared back.

_Your parents would have wanted you to get a better education._

_They are dead, I can do what I want, which is to know them better._

_They are dead, so it's useless trying to get to know them._

_They are still my parents even if they are dead._

_And they would have wanted you to get a better education._

The telepathic conversation continued like that for a few more cycles before Cecil threw his hands up and huffed in exasperation, "Fine, you win, but," he continued when Harry looked entirely too smug with himself, "You'll have to keep up with your studies _and_," the half-vampire paused and waited until he was sure that Harry was paying attention, "You'll have to go to a school of my choice for your sixth and seventh year, after you OWLs." When Harry made to protest, Cecil cut him off, "It's that or nothing."

"Fine," Harry agreed, though he didn't look too happy, "Now, how should I reply to the Deputy Headmistress?"

"Just make it sound like you don't know much about the Wizarding World and wand-waving, it's not that far from the truth anyway." And as much as Harry didn't want to admit it, Cecil was right; he knew the Realm Eternal like the back of his hand, but he hardly knew anything about any of the European Wizarding Communities other than their history. As for the wand-waving, well, he never had a wand in the first place and so the only subjects fully accessible to him are Runes and Potions. He knew some minor Wandless Magic, but his core was still partially unstable and he can't risk straining his magical core, not to mention the fact that his magic is unusually turbulent. He can also do some basic Mind Magic, but like with his magic core, his mind has yet to fully develop and he is restraining to telepathy.

He could get a wand, but the other realm only believed in custom made wands, so why get one when the odds are that it'll get changed in a couple of years once his core has stabilised? He could get one from Diagon Alley, but Britain only has one wand maker and Ollivander was firmly on Albus Dumbledore's side and was sure to recognise him, if not by his scar than because he remembered his parents, not that he has anything against Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore sounds like a great man to Harry, if somewhat prejudiced. But it was exactly that prejudice other than thee fact that he was a stranger that made Harry unable to approach or trust the old wizard. What if the Dumbledore forbid him from seeing Cecil ever again? If he was able to leave him on his aunt's doorsteps, he was surely able to do so and the Ministry would agree with him. After all, the Boy-Who-Lived shouldn't interact with a Dark Creature.

"Anything else?" Harry asked.

"No, except..." Cecil fixed him with a piercing look, "You know the laws."

"Yes," Harry replied, "If that's all, I still have some things to do."

"That's all, see you tomorrow." That said the half-vampire returned to his book and Harry made his way out the door.

* * *

A month later, on September the 1st, his choice to attend Hogwarts proved to be a good one when he made the first two friends his age he ever had, Ronald Weasly and Hermione Granger. And even when faced with a crappy Potions Professor, a wimpy Defence Professor, late night studying, acting accordingly to public opinion, and near death experiences can't change that. Neither did being ostracised, basilisks, dementors, serial murderers, werewolfs, dangerous tournaments, the death of a classmate, but...

* * *

Harry sat at Sirius' bedside, holding his godfather's hand. He was close enough to stop the dog animagus from falling into the Veil, but he was still hit with that curse of Bellatrix's, Now, his godfather was deep in a coma, and the healers at St. Mungo's aren't sure if he'll ever wake up. The spell was made to be incurable and the current efforts of the healers have yet to yield any result.

After the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, the Ministry acknowledged Voldemort return and Sirius was cleared of all charges. There were a couple of injuries, but by now, one day before summer break, everyone was already healed, except Sirius. Harry himself didn't get any injuries, but has spent the past few weeks after the blow-up in Dumbledore's office holed in St. Mungo's at Sirius' bedside instead of relaxing in Hogwart.

Even thinking about Dumbledore made him bristle in anger. How could he keep something as important as the Prophecy hidden from him? It was because Harry didn't have enough information that this happened and the old man had the guts to tell him to go back to the Dursleys for the summer. He had grown more and more suspicious of the wizard, but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. That and the memories he copied from his soon to be former-Headmaster's office.

When he complained to Ron and Hermione, they didn't help by telling him to listen to Dumbledore, it's for his own good. Harry had let it go at the time, but inwardly he had fumed; since when did the Headmaster ever do something for his sake? It was always for that Greater Good of his. Leaving him on the doorsteps of the Dursleys, refusing to let him communicate with his friends, asking Snape to teach him Occlumency. Even if Snape was a Master Occlumens, the animosity between them alone would have prevented him from 'clearing his mind'. Though now Harry admits that maybe he should have tried harder.

The Gryffindor nodded at the healer as he finished his daily diagnosis and made his way out the door. The healer, Helbert Spleen paused at the door and hesitantly turning back towards Harry.

"Mr. Potter," Healer Spleen began, "if you want, I can give you something to keep you updated on Mr. Black's condition."

Hearing that, Harry perked up, "Really?" He asked hopefully, it would keep him from going crazy back at the Dursleys, even with Cecil for company. Though it might also keep him up to date on Sirius' situation for the next year, since... he probably won't be able to visit.

"Yes." Healer Spleen confirmed, "I can charm a parchment to automatically send you the newest information. It isn't usually offered, but..." he trailed off, "So how about it?"

"Yes please." Harry replied, "I would appreciate it a lot. How long will it last?"

"Until the spell is cancelled, since it only activates when new information is being sent through, and even then it only uses ambient magic from the air. Please wait a moment." the healer exited the door and Harry waited the next few minutes in silence until the door re-opened. "Here." Harry was handed a normal looking square piece of parchment.

Harry examined it with interest - though it looked normal, Harry could feel that it was anything but; the parchment emitted magic in waves and when Harry flipped it over, he could see that it was anchored to a set of runes. _Right,_ Harry thought sarcastically, _a charm_. But knowing that normal wizards couldn't see the faint runes outlines, he kept his mouth shut and secretly wondered where the Healer got such a thing, because he certainly didn't make it. But as long as it works, Harry can't complain.

He thanked the healer as the man left and cast a tempus spell. Seeing that it was nearly time for the End-of-Term Feast he got up and told Sirius good bye. Harry really didn't want to leave, nor was he in the mood to celebrate, but _Dumbledore_ had specified that he must attend, it was one of the conditions for him being allowed to visit Sirius. Harry snorted with contempt, he probably just wanted to parade his poster boy around.

The Gryffindor left the fourth floor using the elevator and waved to the receptionist before exiting the establishment. He just stood there breathing in the London air, thinking.

His time in Hogwarts was up, starting next year, he has to go to school in the other realm. Harry has to admit that while he'll miss Hogwarts herself, he won't miss its occupants, with a few exceptions. If you asked him a month ago if he had ever wanted to leave Hogwarts, he'll have replied with a vehement, but after listening to the Prophecy, it was like the cloud that was formerly constantly clouding his mind cleared. He remembered how Ron and the Wizarding World constantly turned against him and how Hermione liked to boss him around, as well as how badly the Dursleys treated him, and he couldn't for the hell of him remember why he tolerated the later and were friends with the former. He can't even remember exactly _why_ it was that he wanted to go to Hogwart in the first place, because one thing he did know was that it wasn't because of the crap he sprouted to Cecil.

Harry reached into his jacked pocket and clutched the half dozens glass vials charmed to be unbreakable containing the memories he had copied. The reason why was soon explained to him by these memories and judging from the half-vampire's reaction that one time he had asked, Cecil had _known_. Known and done nothing. He had a lot to answer to once he got back to Little Whinging.

Harry walked to a deserted alley and hailed the Knight Bus.

"The Hogsmeade." he told Stan Shunpike and paid his bus fare, he then made his way to an empty seat and sat down before subtly casting two wandless sticking charms and relaxing in his seat. He looked out the bus window and let his mind drift off again, keeping an ear out to listen to the stops being announced.

With all that has happened the past few years, Harry can't say that he'll regret leaving Hogwarts, and though he had denied it five years prior, he knew in the bottom of his heart that he'll probably like this new school much more. There is also the added bonus of maybe being able to find a cure for Sirius, learning to kick Voldemort's ass to the afterlife and giving Dumbledore a big fuck you.

Stan called for Hogsmeade Station and Harry got off. He began the short walk to the wizarding school's front gate, and as Hogwarts came into view, he can't help but think that while he won't regret leaving, he doesn't regret ever coming to Hogwart either.

* * *

**The technology inside the fic will probably be off, since I wasn't even _born_ yet at the time. If it bothers you, just imagine that the whole Harry Potter timeline was shifted forward a few years or better yet, take it as a difference between worlds/realms.**

**If there are any readers, please help me keep an eye out for the rating and inform me anything you deem it incorrect, since I have no idea how that works. Thanks**

**Please review.**

**Tsuki Hikaru**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Do I HAVE to write a disclaimer every chapter? Is there anyone stupid enough to actually believe that I own Harry Potter? If there is, well, refer to the prologue because I'm too lazy to write it. **

**Semper Sursum**

Chapter 1

"I'm getting off here and don't expect me to ever go back to Privet Drive." Harry announced, speaking for the first time ever since getting on the car. Vernon looked at him using the rear mirror, but didn't say anything and stopped the car.

Harry got off and went to get his trunk, grateful for the feather-light charm he had cast on it before leaving Hogwarts. The Gryffindor had expected for the car to speed off as soon as he had finished gathering his stuff, but instead, Vernon rolled down the window and spoke gruffly, "What about the letters you are supposed to send and those guards of yours?"

Harry looked at him coolly, "I'll send them, and about the guards…" Harry snorted, "It's not like they did any good last year. If they ask, just tell them I'm holed up inside, shouldn't be too hard to believe." He turned and walked to the front door of the Olde Books, hearing the car drive away behind him."

He felt the wards wash over him and waited until it recognized him before opening the door and stepping inside. He mentally steeled himself for a confrontation, prepared to give Cecil a piece of his mind, but froze in shock as his mind slowly registered what his eyes were currently seeing.

To someone else, it might have been shocking to see the interior of the store, what with it being several times larger and higher than what should have been possible and made out of marble. The fact that the store was several floors tall, with the shelves arranged in a half circle, with many more hidden behind what could be seen might also have amazed them. Or, it might have been because every single one of the wooden shelves were decorated with intricate carvings and an expensive looking chandelier stood hanging from the ceiling. But to Harry, who has as good as lived here for the past eight years, those things didn't shock him anymore. What _did_ shock him was that there wasn't one single book on the floor; all were neatly shelved on the bookshelves.

Cecil was very proud of what he called his 'organized mess'. His reasoning was that since they were the only ones to ever actually used the store, which really made it more of a library, it doesn't matter if the books were arranged on the shelves. That's not to say that they weren't arranged at all – Cecil had once bragged that it took him years to get the books to be both a mess and carefully organized so that he's that only one that knows where all the books are, Harry himself was only able to successfully navigate The Mess after a year of daily visits to the library.

Therefore, it was very shocking to see that every single book part of the redhead's masterpiece were back to where they didn't belong.

Idly, Harry wondered how long it took to sort out The Mess and shelve all those books, especially since quite a few were so fragile that you couldn't risk using magic on them.

The Gryffindor set down his trunk and Hedwig's cage - the owl was out hunting and won't be back until late at night – and walked towards a side door, his light footsteps echoing loudly against the ceiling. He stopped before the doors of Cecil's living quarters and once again waited for the wards to admit him.

This time, before he could open the door, it was thrown open by a red blur.

"Bonjour mon petit frère," Cecil beamed at him, "Sa va bien?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Oui, et tu ?"

"Good, good." Cecil replied, "Come on, we have a lot to do."

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously, "And what happened to The Mess?"

Cecil looked at the floor mourfully and sniffed, "Ma chérie had to go - it was one of the conditions to make this place into a gateway. It's too bad that you missed her funeral; you should have heard the eulogy I wrote for her. Now come on." He grabbed Harry's arm.

"Wai-" They disappeared with a near silent 'pop'.

* * *

"-it." Harry finished lamely, "Where are we?"

"A deserted alley in Diagon Alley." Cecil answered cheerfully, "Let's go."

"Wait!" Harry protested once again as Cecil began to drag him towards the alley entrance, "Someone might recognize me."

"Good point." The half-vampire paused in his dragging, pulled out his wand and conjured a hat, he then caught the hat with one finger and shoved it on Harry's head, "There, now we can go." All of this was done without letting go of Harry's arm and Cecil resumed his dragging.

Harry sighed, just letting himself be dragged away and kept a hand on the hat to make sure it doesn't fall off.

Diagon Alley was almost deserted, leaving only the occasional customers hurrying about in groups of at least three people. It seems like Harry needn't have worried about anyone recognizing him, because the few people in the Alley refused to neither speak to anyone nor look anyone in the eye. Though it might have been a good thing that Harry, his friends, and the Order of the Phoenix caught the Death Eaters, it made the general populace unable to trust anyone but themselves. After all, if an upstanding citizen like Lucius Malfoy and a Gryffindor like Peter Pettigrew were Death Eaters, anyone could be one. Harry thought that they were very stupid; if they were worried that someone was a Death Eater, just ask them to lift up their sleeves. Voldemort, in his infinite wisdom, made it so that the Dark Mark couldn't be hidden nor removed. If there was one thing that the Wizarding World was solely lacking, then it was common sense.

The mood in Diagon Alley was very sombre, which was why so many people did a double-take and looked at them incredulously when Cecil bounded cheerfully across the Alley. Harry just sighed and wondered why he chose such an immature person as his older brother figure. _But then again_, Harry mused, _that might be exactly why he's my older brother and not, let's say, an uncle or even father. _But one thing that Harry was sure of was that Cecil wasn't just a brotherly figure to him, he was actually his brother even if they weren't related by blood, and both of them acknowledged that.

Surprisingly, or maybe not, they came to a stop in front of Gringotts, with its imposing snow-white multi-storied marble building. Cecil finally let go of Harry's arm and he absently shook it to get the blood circulation moving as they approached the front doors.

Gringotts was the same as always even with an incoming war and the familiar warning was still on the door and Harry re-read it as he passed:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_  
_Of what awaits the sin of greed_  
_For those who take, but do not earn,_  
_Must pay most dearly in their turn._  
_So if you seek beneath our floors_  
_A treasure that was never yours,_  
_Thief, you have been warned, beware_  
_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry always found it amusing how the warning could mean so many different things, and that most wizards only took it at face value. Even the muggleborns didn't really think anymore after a while in the Wizarding World, the explanation to every became 'it's just magic', the warning is 'just a warning' and the bank is 'just a bank'. Never mind the fact that 'just a bank' was a gateway to another realm. The warning itself was a spell that stopped thieves from being able to steal anything by cursing them with excessive bad luck after determining their intentions with surface Legilimency.

The truth was that the Wizarding World has entered stagnation, and even the muggles knew that stagnation is always followed by a steady decline, which is what will happen to the Wizarding Community if they don't get off their asses and do something. This makes Harry wonder exactly how long they have before they disappear into obscurity.

They entered the bank and he followed Cecil towards a goblin teller whose nametag identified him as Ironburner.

"How may I help you?" The goblin asked politely, Harry noted that their attitude is completely different from how they act with wizards and witches.

"We are here to re-open and access the vault of one Lily Gwen Potter, née Evans as per her Will." Cecil replied calmly, his personality making a complete 180.

Ironburner paused and looked at them over the rim of his glasses, "Please wait a moment." He got of his chair and disappeared through a door.

"What's going on?" Harry asked in a whisper, "I thought that my mum didn't have a vault?"

"That would be true normally," Cecil replied, "What with her marrying into an old and pureblood family upon her graduation, but she insisted and no one knew about it except her family, excluding Petunia."

_Then how did you know?_ Harry wanted to ask, but at that moment, the goblin came back and gestured them through the door, "Ragnok will be the one seeing you, his office is at the very end of the hallway." Cecil nodded in thanks and ushered Harry through the door.

Once they arrived, the red-head knocked and they waited until they were told to enter. Inside, there was an old goblin sitting at a mahogany desk cluttered with rolls of parchment with bookshelves littered with weird trinket and stacks of even more parchment, he gestured for them to sit and they did so.

"Cecil Dante and Harry Potter I presumed?" Ragnok asked. Harry was startled that he was recognized but didn't ask and kept quiet, letting Cecil answer, since he currently had absolutely no clue what was happening. When they had first entered the bank, he had thought that they were going to the Realm Eternal but that was apparently not the case as they approached a teller, then Cecil asked for a vault that he wasn't supposed to know about and now he is completely lost.

"Yes." The half-vampire replied.

The old goblin raised an eyebrow, "I hope you don't mind if I check it?"

"Of course not."

Ragnok got to his feet and reached upward to get a hold of a small, plain, wooden box sitting on the top shelf. He sat back down and opened the box taking out its content, a flat piece of black stone with ragged edges.

Cecil cut his right index finger on one of the edges and stated his name, "Cecil Dante." The stone glowed blood red and Harry realised that the whole stone was covered with carved runes.

The other two turned to look at him and Harry hesitantly did the same as Cecil, "Harry Potter." The stone once again glowed and Ragnok nodded in satisfaction, putting the stone back in it box and returned the box to the shelf.

Ragnok turned back to them and spoke, "First things first, Mr. Potter, do you know what this is about?"

Harry shook his head, "The only thing I know is that this is about a vault that my mum isn't supposed to have."

"It's not unusual for muggleborns to have an account at Gringotts," Ragnok began, "It happens quite frequently. But what is unusual about this case is that Mrs. Potter asked for this vault to be hidden and that after her death, the vault may only be re-opened if two conditions are met after which the vault will be dissolved and all its content will be given to you, instead of the usual requirements of a key. And unlike other your other vaults, you are able to fully access it even though you are still a minor in the face of the law."

"What do you mean other vaults? Isn't the Potter vault the only one I have other than my trust vault." Harry asked, "And what were the conditions? I wasn't aware that we fulfilled any."

The goblin frowned, "The Potter line itself has two vaults and the Peverell line have three more, those are the ones that I meant."

"I must admit that I am confused as well." Cecil interjected, "The Potter ones, I know about, but I thought that the Peverell vault would have gone to Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"The Peverell vault has rejected Riddle like it did his grandfather and uncle."

"Then how do you know that it'll accept the kid." Cecil rebuked.

"Because it has chosen him ever since the first time he stepped into Gringotts Bank." Ragnok replied.

"What about my second question?" Harry asked before the argument can continue any farther.

"The two conditions were that one, Cecil Dante has to be the one to ask the teller using a specific phrase and two, Harry James Potter has to be present. As for the vault itself..." Ragnok paused to unroll one of the pieces of parchment, "It is quite small and there isn't much money, but they are quite a few objects. If you like, I can bring you there right now."

"Yes, please." Harry was eager for any information he can get on his mum; Sirius and Remus only ever talked about his dad.

They exited the office and took a mine cart for a short ride, arriving at an unnumbered vault. Ragnok ran a finger down the door and it dissolved like it did with Griphook when he opened Vault 713 almost 5 years prior. Harry entered the small vault and indeed, there was only a small pile of galleons at the corner, but there was also a small bookshelf standing against the wall, half-full with what looks like textbooks, diaries, research journals, and photo albums. An empty trunk lay open at the bottom of the shelf.

Harry carefully gathered the books into his arms and bent down to put them in the trunk and did the same with the galleons. He'll read the books when he has the time later.

He turned back to the goblin, "Is that all?" he asked.

Ragnok nodded, "For now. Come back when you turn seventeen, then you can claim the family vaults."

After another short cart ride, they are back on the surface and exited the bank to see the sun setting.

"Let's go home." Cecil said, regaining his bounce as soon as they descended from the last step of Gringotts. This time, Harry didn't wait for Cecil to side-along him and apparated back to the library by himself.

It was only after he appeared in the library and heard a clinking sound from his pocket that he remembered he was supposed to be angry with Cecil. He set down the trunk beside his school trunk and crossed his arm. Not a moment later, Cecil apparated into the library as well. The half-vampire took one look at his face and sighed, "Let's go talk in the kitchen." He banished Harry's two trunks and birdcage back to his bedroom and held the door to his living quarters open, "Are you coming?"

Harry uncrossed his arms and stalked to the kitchen, doing a pretty good imitation of Snape if he did say so himself.

The kitchen was exactly what you would expect from a modern kitchen. It had a stove, oven, dishwasher, and a fridge. The cabinets were made out of solid maple and the counter top was granite, and so was the kitchen island. He perched on one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island and Cecil did the same.

"What do you want to know first?" the redhead asked with a resigned tone of voice.

Harry pulled out the glass vials from his jacket pocket and slapped them on the counter top, "View these first and then explain since you obviously knew about it."

Cecil nodded and wordlessly summoned a pensive. For the next few minutes, there was only silence as he viewed each of the six memories one by one.

Harry clenched his teeth he remembered what the memories contained; one was a mix of Voldemort's past, the second was about hocruxes, the third was someone named Slughorn's conversation with young Tom Riddle, the fourth revealed exactly what the hocruxes were, the fifth was Snape's promise to protect him for his mother's sake, and the sixth…

* * *

"I must admit that I knew about the compulsions and the binding," Cecil began when he came out of the memories, "But since they weren't doing you any harm and was actually sort of helping you, I planned to just let them be until you went to the other realm, where they'll will actually be a hindrance. But I honestly didn't know about the hocruxes."

"How can making me tolerate the Dursleys and like the Wizarding World HELP ME?" Harry asked angrily, "And binding my MAGIC? It made it more turbulent and difficult to control and it's not like I could have used some more magic." he finished sarcastically.

"Well if you hated your family, the blood wards would have fallen and then you would have been vulnerable to Voldemort." Cecil replied calmly.

"Not if I was more magically powerful!"

The half-vampire snorted, "Oh please, Voldemort has decades of more battle experience and knowledge than you – without formal training, you wouldn't have survived without the blood protections and the wand, never mind win a duel against him. Besides, compulsions aren't mind control; you could have broken then if you really didn't want to and binding the magic of muggleborns is a common practice here in Britain. The more powerful muggleborns have their magic partially bound so that they do not accidentally reveal the existence of wizards with their accidental magic. What Dumbledore did wrong was reinforcing the binding once you started Hogwarts."

Harry frowned, starting to calm down somewhat, "If that was so, couldn't you have undone my binding after I started learning magic or going to Hogwarts?"

"First of all, Dumbledore would have become aware of me if I did so, and though I respect him as one of the strongest wizards in Europe and my elder, he is so prejudice against anything dark that it isn't even funny." Cecil paused, and Harry remembered that though the half-vampire was not immortal like full vampires, he could still live for thousands of years, though at the moment he was still just 41 years old, 5 years older than his parents' age if they were still alive today, "He is probably also received brain-damage from that duel with Dark Lord Gellert Grindewald, so it's best not to aggravate an insane person." the red-head added, "Second, do you remember how hard your magic was to control at first?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Now imagine that times ten, and it will be how hard it would have been to control your magic even without the binding if it had been fully free." Cecil replied, "It would have taken you a _very_ long time to master it. There also the added bonus that if someone's magic is bound, it increases like how money gathers interest in a bank account. I can't speak for Dumbledore, but I know that I did, or are least tried to do, everything for your sake."

Harry sighed, unable to stay angry at Cecil for long, "Alright, alright, I believe you, but why didn't you at least inform me of it earlier?"

The reply was instantaneous, "Because you, being the little brat you were would have demanded for them to be removed immediately without listening to reason or care about the consequences."

Harry grudgingly conceded to the older male's point, because that was exactly what he would have done, even just a year ago. If there was one thing the incident at the Department of Mysteries taught him, it was not to charge into things recklessly. "So what should we do about the hocruxes, including the one in my scar?"

The half-vampire hummed, "We should gather the hocruxes, but..." Here Cecil trailed off, "But lets not destroy them just yet - contrary to what the wizards believe, destroying the container using basilisk venom or friendfyre does not destroy the soul, it just latches onto the object it is destroyed with, and if it is done so using magic, it attaches to the person. There is a way to destroy the soul piece, but it will probably take quite a while of research before finding it."

Harry perked up, "There were other cases where the hocrux was a living being?"

"Of course." Cecil gave him a knowing look, getting what he was thinking, but then sighed, "Unfortunately, the humans never bothered to see if there was a way to remove the hocrux and just simply used a killing curse. The inhabitants of the hidden realm didn't either because most of them were immortal or long living enough to be called immortal. Those few who weren't had enough sense not to make a hocrux. When they did have to take care of hocrux problems, well, what was the life of a single mortal worth."

The Gryffindor let his head drop to onto the granite surface and groaned in despair. After a few moments, his head shot back up and he asked, "Wait a moment, if destroying the container doesn't work, then how were people with hocruxes killed in the past?"

Cecil grimaced, "Unfortunately, the only exception to the destroying-container-not-destroying-soul rule are living beings, so when the immortals didn't deem the situation important enough to step in, there was a blood bath until all of the living hocruxes were dead one way or another. No one else had the guts to make as many hocruxes as Voldemort did – the previous record was five – and I'm amazed that he's not a squib yet. Don't worry too much and try to have a good time at your new school, I'll figure something out. And if I can't, someone else in the Realm Eternal is sure to be able to if they only tried. Meanwhile, I'll contact the goblins for a way to seal the hocrux in you scar temporarily and gradually remove the bindings on your magic so you can properly adjust to it. You already broke the compulsions by yourself so there isn't anything else that we need to do."

"Speaking of my new school, have you decided which one I should go to?" Harry asked.

Cecil grinned wolfishly and his red eyes gained a slight mischievous glint, Harry began to wonder whether it was a good idea to let him chose the school, "Best school in all of the Realm Eternal, Veles School of All Things Magick," he announced dramatically, "My alma mater. There's no backing off, I already registered for you and got permission from the Headmistress."

For the second time in five minutes, Harry's head hit the counter, and this time more than once.

* * *

Harry collapsed on his bed, exhausted. He had chased the cackling half-vampire around the store for the last half an hour and combined with all that had happened today, he was ready to drop. He cursed the speed that was common to all vampires

He turned to lie on his back and stared at the ceiling. Seven hocruxes. The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, Nagini, the Gaunt ring, the basilisk fang he used to stab the diary, Salazar Slytherin's locket, and him. Cecil told him to enjoy the time he had at school, but how could he when he was one of the things keeping his worst enemy alive?

Not to mention that he's going to _Veles_ of all schools. It was known for being the best school in the hidden realm, and therefore the best school in existence, but it was also known for being the bloodiest.

Unlike other schools in the realm, it was unplottable and accepts absolutely everyone without ever looking at a single test score or grades. Even someone like Goyle could get in with ease, but whether or not they can graduate or even live is a completely different question.

The first month of school every year is a free for all for all grades, though second years and up are only allowed to fight and kill among themselves, otherwise the school won't have any new students. Everything was allowed; alliances, assassination, duels, and at the end of the month only the strong survive. Afterwards, if you get expelled, your memory is wiped to prevent any information leak.

The first month of school was the only time when students could kill on school grounds without heavy consequences, so many people used the opportunity to off a rival or even just kill for the hell of it. There are rumors that says killing is discouraged because it gives the teachers too much extra paperwork.

Cecil was going to get him killed one of these days, Harry just knew it.

He yawned and blinked sleepily. He was tired but can't help thinking that he had forgotten about something, several somethings actually...

Oh well, he'll deal with it tomorrow.

* * *

One of the things Harry had forgotten was one Arabella Figg.

After Dumbledore had told Mrs. Figg what had happened to Harry that school year, she waited till the Dursleys returned and then another half an hour before going to knock on their door.

Petunia was amiable enough at first if a bit fidgety, Mrs. Figg just chalked it up to having heard of Voldemort's return and being wary of strangers, though she didn't understand why she was afraid with the blood wards there. Mrs. Figg was invited inside for tea and she happily accepted, waiting for a good opportunity to ask about Harry.

They gossiped about everything from Claudia Fawcett's pregnancy to the window some delinquents broke last week. When Petunia talked about renovating her garden, Mrs Figg pounced on the opportunity provided to her.

"Speaking of gardens," Mrs. Figg began nonchalantly, "I was wondering if I could ask your nephew Harry to mow my lawn for me? The grass is getting awfully overgrown.

The first indication that something was wrong was when Petunia blanched and dropped her tea cup.

"Are you alright, Petunia?" Mrs Figg asked, half rising from her seat.

"F-fine," She smiled weakly, "My fingers just slipped." She used a napkin to clean up the mess, carefully gathering the shards of the ceramic tea cup she had used and threw it into the garbage can.

Mrs. Figg settled back down on her chair and asked, "And what about my question?"

"What question?"

"The one about Harry mowing my lawn."

"O-oh yes," Petunia paused, "Well I'm afraid that's just not possible right now. You see, my nephew is staying with a couple of friends of his for the summer, I doubt that he is going to be back anytime soon."

The squib frowned, "I was not aware that he was staying with the Weasleys." She accidentally let slip the wizarding family's name, but expected Petunia to miss it.

Instead, the woman paled even further and stuttered, "H-how d-do y-you-u k-know that n-name?"

Thinking that Petunia had mistaken her for a Death Eater, Mrs. Figg hurried to reassure the poor dear, "Don't worry dear, I'm with Professor Dumbledore-" she wasn't able to finish her sentence before she was shooed out, with Petunia screaming all the while.

Mrs. Figg sighed after the door was closed in her face but turned to walk back to her house. At least Harry was with friends; he shouldn't be left alone after what had happened to his godfather. She briefly thought about checking in with Dumbledore to make sure but dismissed the idea. The headmaster probably just forgot to tell her, he _was_ a very busy man after all.

She would regret her decision when much later that night, Professor Dumbledore floo called to ask her to check in on one Harry Potter.

* * *

"What do you mean he isn't there?!" Molly Weasley shrieked.

Dumbledore subtly winced, slightly cowed by her wrath. "Exactly that," he replied, trying to stay calm, "He isn't with his relatives - they said that he went with you."

"Well of course he isn't with us!" Mrs. Weasley huffed, "You said that it wasn't safe here and he couldn't come until we properly warded the Burrow."

"Yes I did," the old headmaster tried to pacify her, "I just came to make sure."

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron called from where he was standing, "How can you be sure that the Dursleys were telling the truth?"

Dumbledore frowned, "What do you mean, Mr. Weasley? Why wouldn't they tell us and compromise Mr. Potter's safety?" he asked wearily to the soon-to-be sixth year, Arabella nodded in agreement next to him. The night had been a long one. After he had finished arranging Harry's guards for the summer, he received a call from the first guard that Mr. Potter was nowhere to be seen. Slightly worried, but believing that the boy was just holed up inside his room mourning his godfather, he had floo called Arabella and asked her to check in on him.

He got a nasty shock when she had replied that she thought he was with the Weasleys. He immediately asked her to floo to his office and tell him exactly why she thought so and once she finished describing her encounter with Petunia that afternoon he concluded with disappointment that Harry had lied to his relatives and went off into London.

He ordered every single Order member including the one on guard duty, one Nymphadora Tonks, to comb London for Mr. Potter. It had been two hour since then, and Mr. Potter is still nowhere to be found. It was only half an hour ago that he entertained the idea that the boy was actually with the Weasleys.

Which was why he was standing here arguing with Molly Weasley at 3 in the morning because unfortunately, Mr. Potter wasn't here.

He had checked his device monitoring the blood wards and they were still standing, so Mr. Potter still intended to return there, but it was too dangerous for the boy to be out wandering alone this late or rather, this early in the morning.

Dumbledore waited for the young Mr. Weasley to answer his question and after a couple moments, the Gryffindor did.

"Because they don't get along all that well, sir." Ron answered.

"I see." The headmaster frowned, "But it's quite early, I guess we'll have to wait until morning to question them. You should get some sleep as well." He addressed the Weasley family and Arabella, "Arabella, I'll be at your house tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." That said, Dumbledore walked to the floo and disappeared into the green flames before Molly had a chance to restart her tirade.

* * *

Ron hurried up to his room and scribbled out a letter. He gave it to Pig and told her to send it to Hermione and watched as the owl flew out of sight.

Ron sighed, what was Harry thinking?

* * *

Hermione was having a nice dream when a 'tap, tap' sound interrupted her sleep. She ignored it in hopes that it'll go away, but a few seconds later the sounded repeated. She grumbled, for once having to sleep without worrying about schoolwork and it gets interrupted.

She got up and spotted Pig at the window, holding a letter. Hermione's eyes narrowed in annoyance; Ron better have something important to say, else he is going to have one angry witch on his hands.

She stalked to the window and threw it open, letting Pig in. She carefully untied the letter - no use taking out anger focused towards the owner on the pet.

Hermione unfolded it and there, writing in Ron's untidy scrawl was:

_Hermione,_

_Harry, the prat, ran away from his relatives without telling Professor Dumbledore where he is. Professor Dumbledore has people searching all over London for him, but he is nowhere to be found. I'll keep you updated if anything new comes up._

_Ron_

* * *

The dealing with it tomorrow thing? Turns out it wasn't such a good idea after all.

Harry had woken up at seven o'clock, his internal clock still wired to wake him up at school time. The first thing he noticed was two amber eyes staring at him and he couldn't help but roll off the bed in shock. But tangled in the covers as he was, instead of landing on his feet, he embarrassingly landed on his ass.

He heard a low chuckle from and turned to stare at Cecil leaning against the doorway. Harry glared at him and scowled, but had to duck as he sensed something flying at him.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed as he recognized his snowy owl and realized that she was the owner of the amber eyes, "Ow, ow, ow." He got off the floor and tried to get away from the furious owl, not that he knew _why_ she was angry.

As if the half-vampire had been reading his mind, he spoke, "She was stuck outside the shop and couldn't get in because the windows were all closed due to the storm forecast. I sensed her on the wards but thought that she was just a random wild animal. It took her pecking the window for over an hour before I finally went out to check." Cecil explained, "I swear, that owl of yours is not normal; she would have been able to peck through the window if they didn't repair faster than she could peck."

Harry apologized to Hedwig for forgetting about her and promised her some extra mice. Gratified, she landed to perch on his shoulder and stood regally.

"I'll leave you to get ready," Cecil continued, "We have a lot to do today." He spun on his heel and his favourite dark red trench coat billowed out behind him. The door snapped shut as he went out and Harry got up to go to the bathroom connected to his bedroom.

The bathroom was simple with a sink, toilet, a shower stall. The walls were painted with a light yellow and a fluffy towel laid on the floor with a couple more folded ones on the toilet seat.

Harry stripped and got into the shower stall which automatically started to spray warm water, beginning his preparations for the day.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he exited the living quarter in a baggy dark green t-shirt and a pair of black khaki pants. He looked around the library lobby for a while before telepathically searching for Cecil. He found his brother on the top floor, the fifth one and headed to the library elevator.

He wandered among the Necromancy section for a while before reaching the far wall to find the redhead crouching on the wall carefully painting runes on the wall using a calligraphy brush. Harry knew what he was doing and had made an effort to memorize that particular ritual so he just conjured a brush and some ink of his own before joining Cecil in crouching on the wall. Usually, runes didn't need to be inked onto every single wall for wards, but then again, they weren't making wards.

The other realm was separate from earth in couldn't be reached in normal means like apparition and they didn't have floo. Portkeys would work, but it takes a large amount of power to make a portkey that can take you between realm and extremely expensive. The few people that actually cross realms just chose to use gateways; they were simple and free.

As soon as the ritual was complete, the bookstore will exist on both realm at the same time and it would be a simple matter of going into the shop, closing the door, re-opening the door while imagining the realm they wanted to be in and walking right back out the door to be in said realm.

It was illegal to do the ritual without permission as the denizens of the hidden realm liked to be separate from earth and of those born and raise in the realm, few ever went to earth in their entire life. Those that immigrate from earth even have to change their name to break any connections to their former life. It's because of this that every gateway is noted down and it doesn't matter whether or not the gateway is in use or not, for security reasons.

Cecil had applied to make the shop into a gateway a couple years ago and only received the necessary runes last summer. Since then, the two had focused on memorising the ritual so that they won't get a single rune wrong. Thank Merlin for Memory Enhancing and Wit-Sharpening potions.

It took them a couple of hours to finish covering the entire establishment, from ceiling to ground floor, in runes and by then Harry's stomach was grumbling with hunger.

"Finished!" Cecil exclaimed, patting Harry on the back, "Now we just have to wait for the locations calculation to come back and we're set to go. Now for some late breakfast..." he trailed off.

Cecil had a Mastery in Necromancy and Battle Magic and while he can ward places and do rituals using already created runic circles better than the majority of the wizards and a good portion of other realm denizens, it wasn't his forte and he can't write a correct rune sequences to save his life, that was Harry's specialty.

But, Harry scowled behind Cecil back at the reminder of the calculations, the half-vampire said that he was just a novice and it was best to leave the job to the professionals. Harry didn't blame him for wanting to make sure the ritual went flawlessly, but couldn't he have let Harry do the calculations and _then_ have the so called professionals check them? No offence to said professionals, but he wouldn't trust the skill of someone he hadn't personally witnesses himself.

"Who is making the calculations anyway?" Harry asked when he caught up to Cecil.

The redhead smirked slightly, "Oh you wouldn't know him," he dismissed, "thought you will meet him at Veles - he _is_ one of the professors there."

"The Runes Professor?" He questioned, curious, because Veles only accepted the best of the best as professors, and if this person really _was_ the Runes Professor, then Harry really had no room to question their skill.

Cecil's smirk grew wider, "You'll have to find out for yourself."

They sat down at the kitchen island and now that there was no chance of anyone watching them, Cecil simply waved his hand to summon a box of cereal instead of making the effort of pulling out his wand.

Just as Harry was about to dig into his bowl of Captain Crunch, the once again wide open window let in a familiar owl clutching a red envelope. Pig dropped the Howler on the table and flew back out the window.

Harry slowly opened the envelope and winced, expecting it to explode, and indeed, Mount Molly didn't disappoint.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHAT DO YOU'RE DOING? HOW DARE YOU LEAVE YOUR RELATIVES HOUSE WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE! YOU CAN COME TO THE BURROW LATER IN THE SUMMER BUT GO BACK TO THE DURSLEYS UNTIL THEN! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW IMMATURE AND INCONSIDERATE OF OTHERS YOU ARE BEING!" The Howler died and Harry groaned, remembering what else he had forgotten last night. Not even 24 hours and he was already discovered, he really should plan things better in the future.

Harry couldn't help but feel that her remark stung even if he had resolved to disregard their opinion.

* * *

Dumbledore sighed as he stepped off the Dursley's front door, baffled.

Young Ronald had been right, they had been lying. The Dursleys simply stopped the car and let him out without demanding an explanation not that it changed much.

Though that had not what had baffled him, it was the fact that there were no blood wards around the Dursleys house yet his instruments still indicated it as standing. That means that they were anchored to someone else, but who? Lily didn't have any other relatives.

Too bad that the tracking devices he made using Harry's blood was destroyed in the Gryffindor's rampage...

* * *

Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, his mother's first diary in his lap. He opened to the first page and started to read:

_September 1st, 1971_

_I was so excited to finally go to Hogwarts this morning, not to say that I am not now, but my mood was soured by the argument I had with Tuney. I can't believe that she called me a freak. _

_At least dad and mum approved of me being a witch. Me, a witch! Can you believe it? Big brother was proud of me as well, he even gave me this diary so I can record my memories and share them with him when I'm back home for summer vacation._

_It's best that I leave the writing till later though - there's still the Hogwarts Express to explore for now! _

* * *

**Anyone can guess what Cecil's relation to Harry is? He is an OC but I have made it pretty damn easy.**

**Like I said in the summary, there will be no bashing and Dumbledore, Hermione, Ron, etc. had their reasons for doing what they did. While Harry will be going to a new school and changing his name, the canon characters will still be involved, some pretty heavily. There will also probably be a few that will go to the Realm Eternal, which is why I will open a poll for you to chose who will go.**

**Please review!**

**Tsuki Hikaru**


End file.
